


Cupid's Bow

by ProlificNovice



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Romance, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-03-26 09:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3846211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProlificNovice/pseuds/ProlificNovice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bella was content with her already-planned-out-life... and then they dropped her into Oblivion. Now, she must go in search of the Thing while trying to avoid the scandalous inhabitants... but that's easier said than done. Updates every (other) day until complete!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Cupid's Bow**

**Prologue**

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.

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I stand at the top, looking down at the world far, far below me.

"You're up," the Watcher next to me intones; bored, impatient.

_As if I didn't already know._

I stare queasily at the long drop down, my stomach full of knots. I take an unconscious step back, only to be pushed forward by the queue behind me.

"Come on!" says a voice from behind, but I don't dare look away from the fall. "Some of us are aiming to get to the next world _today_!"

I ignore them, instead looking at the Watcher out of the corner of my eye. "I don't like heights," I whisper, trying not to tremble and failing. I guess it was sort of ironic considering we lived so high up in the clouds... but I'd never had to _face_ the bottom before.

Their reply is an eye roll. "Try to land on your feet," they say, voiced bored again, like it's been said a hundred times over today – which it probably has. "It'll be less painful."

Then, with any further ado, I'm pushed over the edge, and into Oblivion.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Cupid's Bow**

**Chapter 1**

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I do, in fact, land on my feet. Though I don't stay that way for very long.

The shock and adrenaline coursing through my veins has me toppling over in no time. When my butt hits the plush underneath me, I watch the Stream hovering around me retract and shoot back up into the sky. The pain that accompanies its departure is excruciating, adjusting to new atmosphere and pressure and air, and of course, the realisation of the fall.

Tears spring forth, and I curl myself into a tight ball, gasping breath back into my chest as I fight the building urge to just… _just_ …

But I don't. The last thing I need right now is to let _Them_ know I'm here.

I lose count of time as I lie there, but when the worst of the pain begins to subside, I pull myself up. I grit my teeth at the jostling, clenching my hands into fists in the weird softness below me. Grimacing at the feel, I pull them away quickly.

After tumbling myself to my feet, every step I take is accompanied with a quietly hissed, _ow_. The ground is too soft, providing no traction, no grip. It's so… so _ill-defined_ that I expect every foot-fall to be my last.

"Clouds belong in the sky," I mutter queasily, cringing as my foot hits _nothing_ once more. "Not on the ground."

As I pass – no real route in mind – I glance periodically around me, searching for any sight of the Thing to no avail. _The deeper you travel, the closer you'll be_ , was all I'd been told about its whereabouts. I hate cryptic, but they were pushing me over the edge before I could ask for something more substantial.

So I have no choice but to just… _keep going._ I'd turned inward, assuming I'd been set at the shallow, but how was I supposed to really know? They had given me _nothing_ ; no navigator, not even a plain paper map – just abstract words and a bleary understanding.

I try to avoid looking as much as I can while still looking for the Thing, but it's difficult. It's too coloured, too soft, too _infinite_. The relief I feel at finding it all rather disturbing rather than enamouring is what keeps me walking, really. I'm still cursing everyone back on Earth (well, the few people who'd sent me here, at least) but I manage to keep the angry muttering to a minimum.

They (meaning _we_ , but not really) call it Cupid's Bow. I just call it Oblivion.

More time ticks over, and I'm startled by the ever growing brightness of the day, and even more so by the ever _increasing heat_ – such as I've never felt before. My skin feels positively flushed as I pause on the clouds to take a breather. My hand forms a shield as I hold it above my eyes. It's too bright, too hot. Discomfort takes hold of my body and throat as my clothes start to stick, my mouth to dry.

"Oh no," I whisper, panicked, when I swipe my hand across my face to find it covered in sweat. _Sweat_ , for crying out loud!

Addled, the only thing I can remember then is that I'm losing water, and becoming dehydrated is very, very bad. So logically the thing I have to do is –

"Find water," I whisper.

Despite the heat, the sudden urgency kicks my limbs into action until I'm running – where else? – deeper into Oblivion.

**OoOoOo**

**OoOoOoOo**

**OoOoOo**

I run until the dryness in my throat becomes painful, and then I run some more.

I thought it was my vision clouding and tunneling around me when the world started to grow narrower, but after a while I realise the world actually _is_. Soft and green brush against me as I push through, dragging over my sweated-through clothes. And it seems all of a sudden to get dimmer, though hotter at the same time.

Panic is at the forefront of my mind, and I can't tell whether it's sweat or tears that blur my vision. But it doesn't really matter _which_ it is, just that it _is_ one of them.

 _What's a bit more water?_ I think, choking back the hysteria burning my throat.

To distract myself, I try to think of all the names I'm going to call Banner and Birdy and the whole damn institution once I find the Thing and am back in the blessed land of _normal_. Unfortunately, that doesn't last long, as all of the really mean words (and really nice ones) were locked away and hidden all those years ago.

 _Rude_ , is mostly what I come up with.

I want to stop for a minute but I'm worried I won't able to start up again if I do. So I carry on running, and sweating, while my eyes work mile-a-minute, simultaneously searching for water and for the Thing I need to find to go home.

And then _something_.

Something glitters in the corner of my eye.

I immediately come to a standstill, but the sudden loss of momentum wobbles me, and I trip over my own two feet into the softness below. For the first time, I feel grateful for it, because with sturdy ground, that probably would have hurt.

I freeze as the glitter sparkles in my vision, clearer this time. Instinctively, I tilt slightly and crawl a little closer, my fast heart only going faster as I –

_Water!_

Clear and shining in the too-bright brightness and glinting like something I've never seen before. But it doesn't matter. Water's water, right? I try to see a little better. It's weird looking, oddly sparkling with facets of colour… but it's definitely water.

Almost giddy, I creep through the green, never losing sight of it as I crawl through the ground-air. As I get closer, the fire in my throat seems to burn hotter, so aware that relief is so close. Sweat still drips into my eyes and down my neck, but for the first time since it started I don't care because there _'s water_! A whole pool of it!

I'm _almost_ there when I hear a noise, and I freeze.

Melodic giggles swell around my ears as I crouch there, hidden beneath green, enclosed by yellow and purple and blue and red. Panicked, my gaze leaves the pool and darts to the left and right of me, breath catching when I see.

When I see _Them_.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Cupid's Bow**

**Chapter 2**

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The brochures for _Cupid's Bow_ all boast about the stunning scenery, the out-of-this-world colour and the high-rise temperatures that make it, apparently, 'the place to be!'

What they fail to mention, however, are the inhabitants.

That's not to say that no one knows, though. In fact, it's the one of the main reasons why people come here. It's just that it's kept on the down-low, hidden from the wider, more public reaches of society, and kept in hushed conversations, or secret writings passed under tables.

So no one knows, but everyone really does. And it's created two separate groups: those who pretend to be outraged but can't get over the edge fast enough, and those who are _actually_ outraged.

I fall into the latter.

So when I was told that this was to be my place of assignment, for the first time in my life, I kicked up a _fuss_. Shock had followed my absolute adamancy that I wouldn't go, but in the end it was all for naught. What had I gotten for all my efforts? Points retracted from my spotless record and an impatient push.

Apparently, _I don't want to go_ was not a valid reason to, well, _not go._

But right now, staring at the four figures in the harsh light, I'm pretty sure they couldn't have been more wrong.

Tall frames, crazy tall, _not-of-my-species_ tall, are all stretched out upon the bright colourful _nothing_. I've only ever seen them on scattered bits and pieces of paper, so for a moment I'm stuck-startled by the first-glance _humanness_ of them... forgoing their height, of course.

But that quickly fades.

My eyes widen and I can't help but recoil at the sight of all that _skin_. So much of it. And _all_ of it on show. I'd never seen a human like that... knew that I _would_ never. And they're so _close_ to one another, not _practically_ touching but very much _actually_ touching. It makes my widened eyes bug, my mouth drop because... well. It's one thing to accidentally overhear about it, but entirely another to witness it first-hand.

Noise reaches my ears again, and I can see now that the giggle came from one of the females. I watch, my heart jumping, as she leans down towards one of the males, hands touching and grasping in ways I can't make sense of. My face burns as I watch him move up towards her in response, skin free of everything but each other. I quickly turn my head, scurrying backwards before I can see anymore.

I place my hand over my chest, my lungs whining with the effort to breathe.

_I need to go_ , I think, and my body agrees wholeheartedly.

Tumbling myself onto my feet, my eyes can't help but seek out the water one last time. Unequivocal _need_ fills me as I stare at it, but I know I won't step out of this cover, because I really, really don't want to be seen by Them.

All of those hushed tales fill my head as more giggles break the air, and my skin goes hot again as I start backing away from the pool.

_There has to be more around here somewhere_ , I think. _I might even find the Thing first, if I'm lucky._

"Bye salvation," I whisper mournfully, not even being dramatic, watching the sparkles ripple in goodbye, feeling my throat cry out and my skin to become so aware of its stickiness once again as I –

_Ripple?_

**_._ **

**_._ **

**_._ **

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	4. Chapter 4

**Cupid's Bow**

**Chapter 3  
**

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On Earth, the first and last time I'd ever been surprised was when they'd told me they were dropping me into Oblivion.

Every other single aspect of my life had been expected, pre-determined, if you want to be really specific about it. I had been told and taught and assigned, and I'd been shown the path my life would take. Routine was what we lived by, and routine was good. Routine was normal. _Safe_.

But that changed the day they switched me, suddenly realised that the life I'd been living should have been assigned to someone else.

When had they made this error? The day they'd created me in a test tube.

So that's twenty years. _Twenty years_ it took for them to realise that, _hey_ , _I think we've made a little mistake here._

Only it wasn't little. It was my already-planned-out life, and they'd destroyed it in an instant.

I remember being frozen when they told me, frozen in the line to the drop. I froze at the sight of Them, so that's how my surprise, my shock, manifested. I'm still not accustomed to the feeling, so my feet grow real, proper tree roots as I stand there, watching the water come to _life_.

The sparkles on the previously calm tide start to slowly rise, forming around a single block that should be impossible for it to do. But as I watch, it only grows taller, taller, _taller_ , until it sprouts a _body_.

My dry throat catches my sounds as the glinting stops being so see-through, and becomes real-life _flesh_. Arms rise up and sweep through the little waves, creating a tsunami that splashes down across bright burning hair, sending little shards of glitter dripping down onto a real-life _face_.

My gasp draws the water from my already dried-out tongue.

At that, I watch as eyes snap open through the wet. My hands immediately clap themselves over my mouth, terrified. Because colour infuses his gaze, and it brings the rest of him to life.

He's one of _Them_.

Surprise quickly morphs into fear as I watch his eyes look into my cover, like he's looking right at me. I hope beyond hope that I'm too far away for that, that all he can be seeing is the colour and the green, so much more prevalent than the typical grey of my clothes – covering me toe to neck, with the addition of a hat hiding my hair away.

But the more I think about it, the more I panic. Clearly, I'm not part of this landscape, so won't that just make me _more_ noticeable?

But fear has the same feeling as surprise – only doubled. So my feet remain rooted. All I can manage to do is drop to the ground again, hands still clasped to my mouth as I try to remain as still and quiet and invisible as possible.

My heart thunders as his eyes drip closed, but I don't dare move a muscle. _Not yet,_ I think. _Just wait. In a minute he'll…_

But he doesn't.

He just stays like that, body looking frozen like mine but not. I watch his chest expand when he breathes, each breath seemingly quicker than the last, and his skin shudder with whatever it is he keeps inhaling. He's unsettling to look at, even more so than the other four because somehow he seems _more_ , but I can't look away because if I do then I won't know where he goes. And I need him to be going.

_Away_ from me.

All of a sudden, his eyes snap open again, and my fingers fall and tighten in soft when he starts to move.

_Towards_ me.

My body starts trembling as he leaves the water behind. I expect the shine and sparkles to fall from his skin, but bizarrely, they _cling_ to him. Baffled, I watch his skin glisten, looking bright and shiny like something rare and special polished brand-new, as he steps out onto dry land. My mouth falls open as I realise that they aren't part of the pool, but part of _him_.

He's _shining_.

And for a moment, that startles me enough to forget about his nakedness… that's until the sparkling starts to amplify what's so clearly there, outrageously shoving _everything_ into my face.

I have to look away then.

It's so… _wrong_. So… _unnatural_.

Abruptly flooded by memories of the _hush_ , I force my body to unstick and start scrambling backwards. I'm looking to the side of me, so I can't tell if he's actually coming towards me or not, but the idea that he could be is enough. _Too much._

My back hits something solid.

Eyes wide at the very first substantial thing I've encountered since being here, my head whips around as far as it can go. I see something deep red before I realise that it doesn't really matter unless it's the Thing and if it is I can come back for it as soon as –

My head spins as I attempt to get my bearings, and then I scream.

**OoOoOo**

**OoOoOoOo**

**OoOoOo**

Quiet conversations, hushed conversations, _empty_ conversations. I was used to the dull inflect of speech; we conversed… it was just what we _did_. But giggling, laughing, sighing, _screaming_?

I never thought I'd do any.

The sound I let out, the _scream_ , isn't as shrill or high as I expect. The dryness of my throat makes it splutter, makes it weak and hoarse. In the end, it peters out almost as soon as it starts, ending with about a hundred coughs.

Through watery eyes, I watch the figure so near me wince and recoil, and wish I was able to hold it for longer. Maybe it would have sent Them away all together.

But the shining-him barely backs up any. He's eye-level, because he's on his hands and knees, and my heart skitters around in my chest when he starts inching closer. I let out an involuntary _shriek_ when his hand suddenly encloses round my ankle, and I quickly yank my legs tight towards my body.

"D-d-don't – " I want to say, _don't touch me,_ but my lips are trembling too much to get the words out.

His head cocks to the side as his gaze fixes on mine, before drifting to my mouth. Paralysed, my insides revolt at the sight of his odd eyes. They're coloured in a way I've never seen, like… like green and gold splashed together. Up close, the facets glinting on his skin form rainbows of colour, over and over again, shooting off every which way. And he's too near. I can feel the zing and pop and sizzle of his body coming too close to mine, and it's making my skin rise in a way it never has before.

_Too much._

I stop looking at him. _Have_ to.

I drop my head into my knees and tighten my arms around my legs. I can feel the solid sturdiness against my back, but now I find myself wishing for soft. I feel _trapped_.

_Go away,_ I think. _Oh please, go away._

Soft noises suddenly break the stifled air, making my shaking increase ten-fold. I don't know what it means, that gentle murmur, and I don't _want_ to know. I wish I had a badge or something to show, to make Them understand that I wasn't here for –

_Touch_.

My body seizes as I feel the heat of something very _real_ come into contact with my neck – one of the only parts of me that isn't covered. Lungs aching with the breath I won't let out, I feel the expanding of his chest against my legs as he breathes in deeply, the resounding trembles on his skin that after-shock mine.

He lets out another noise again – this one throatier, longer.

A _moan_.

Fear prickles at my scalp, and my palms grow damp with sweat as I feel his nose drift up from my neck to behind my ear. He breathes so, so deeply, and then his fingers are sliding up like the water he was just in slid along his skin. They catch on my hat, which is suddenly just _gone_ , before sinking into my hair.

_Too much._

Everything in me short-circuit-overloads at all of that _feeling_. I can count the number of times I've been touched in my lifetime on one hand. We just don't do it. _We don't do it._

So finally unfreezing, I yank my head up so fast it hits hard on the solid behind me. My vision swims for a minute as I register the pain, but I don't give it a chance to disappear before I'm shoving him away from me, not registering the look of hurt on his face as I _finally_ run-trip _away_ from him.

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**A/N: Well, Bella's having an eventful first day, isn't she?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Cupid's Bow**

**Chapter 4**

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As I blindly vault myself through the forest, I don't fight the tears that slip past my lids. I know I'm losing water but right now I just don't care. I'm sad and angry and just feeling too full of things to be rational about what I need.

Before this day, I don't think I'd ever run this much for anything. Too much exercise was frowned upon. Too much of _anything_ was. Moderation was the key to the preservation of us. Of our quiet, group goodness. I hadn't minded. I was never much of a runner.

But right then, the ache and exertion I feel is more than relief, it's _freedom_. I'm away and flying-through and it doesn't matter that my throat is bone-dry or that my feet are stinging, that my hair is loose or my chest is aching. It doesn't even matter that one of Them spotted me, and is maybe even following me right now.

Because I'm running away from it all, and I'm not stopping.

**OoOoOo**

**OoOoOoOo**

**OoOoOo**

But inevitably, I run out of steam.

I don't so much as make the conscious decision to stop as just _stop_. My feet halt and my legs wobble, and I fall before I can think to catch myself.

Under the heat, I burn.

**OoOoOo**

**OoOoOoOo**

**OoOoOo**

Cold.

Wet.

_Water._

I gasp alive as _relief_ – pure and fresh – slips down my throat in kind, small waves.

My vision is dark as I swallow tide after tide down, feeling my aching throat cry out as its call is quenched. Every little last slip of tightness in my limbs seems to suddenly deflate, leaving me trembling with the left-over.

My eyes flutter when water spills across my lips and slips into my hair. Blinded by the brightness, it takes me a minute to realise _where_ , and when I do, I'm overcome by the urge to… to…

"Shhh…"

My eyes _snap_ open.

Ripping the sheen abruptly away, the first thing my body does is throw itself backwards – _away_ – or at least attempts to, at any rate. But instead of hitting softness, my body only jolts slightly, but doesn't really move any. I blink too many times and too quickly at the shimmering face hovering so closely above mine, my hands feeling shaky but still pushing at his chest – only to recoil at the feel of his _skin_.

He makes a noise in the back of his throat at my squirming, his eyebrows furrowing. Mounting panic causes me to freeze for a moment, feeling the solid wrapped around me tense and tighten, the splash-colour of his eyes to become impossibly _more_. His intense gaze makes me feel trapped, and out of my peripheral, I just about see something green rise before –

Before I regain mind-body function again.

My squirms increase ten-fold as I try to break away from the something's-grasp while avoiding touching _him_. The green thing that had been rising abruptly slips out of his hand, spilling out fluid onto the softness below. Noises come from his throat again, sort of like _huffs_ , as his arm lifts to meet the something-solid behind me. With panic, I realise that it was his _other_ arm. And now they're both – they're both _around_ me.

Again, I freeze.

He stares down at me as I stare up at him. But unlike my widened eyes, his are narrowed, and unlike my quick breathing, his is slow – deep.

Fear rattles my insides as he pulls me closer. I want to push against him, but my hands are caught. So all I can do is feel the unnatural heat of his bare skin through my clothes as he draws me in. His head twitches to the side as his gaze runs over my face… before settling on my eyes again. He looks at me carefully, like he's… like he's trying to… to tell me something?

Slowly, one of his arms unwinds from around my waist, but I'm stuck to his chest now, so close I'm sure the racing of my heart must be racing through his flesh. Without looking away from me, his arm reaches out and dips before returning; green thing in hand.

Warily, my gaze shifts to it as he brings it closer, swallowing thickly when it touches my lips.

Pressing them tightly together, I shake my head quickly.

_No._

A soft whining comes from him at that, forehead scrunching and mouth dipping as I refuse. He holds my tighter, pulls me closer, head lifting slightly as he tries again.

I squeeze my eyes shut and turn my head to the side.

His sounds grow, and my body trembles as I feel the vibrations running through his chest. My breath grows short and my trapped hands curl into fists, thoughts running rampant as I –

Cold.

Wet.

_Water._

My eyes pop open and I let out a startled yelp at the feeling of icy-cold spilling across my cheek, down the sliver of uncovered skin of my neck. Inevitably, my head snaps to the side, and I can only stare in shock at the sight of water-him, pouring water over _me_.

He waves the little green thing at me, and smiles.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Cupid's Bow**

**Chapter 5**

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So that's pretty much how I end up drinking water from something weirdly colourful with the aid of a sparkling one of Them.

As soon as the cold liquid hits my throat, I recall the feeling of just that before I properly came to. Embarrassment tinges my cheeks as I think over my reaction, but it soon gives way to incredulity. _Why should I be embarrassed for being suspect over it?_

As I drink, his gaze never leaves my face, and I have to close my eyes because it's making me feel funny.

When the ache in my throat has completely gone, I tilt my head to the side and shake my head again. When his brows furrow, I force a smile onto my lips, trying to show, _that's enough_ , not just, _no._

His frown disappears.

Dropping the water-thingy to the side of him, he makes a soft _humming_ sound in his throat as his arm comes back around me. He smiles, eyes bright, and I tense when he eases me back into the soft.

My heart thunders, thick and wet and heavy, when he crouches over me.

I swallow thickly when the tip of his nose touches mine, my breath beginning to escape in short, frantic gasps. When his cheek brushes against mine, I snap my eyes closed, like it'll make the feel of him disappear, right before his head drops into my neck. A short annoyed grunt escapes him when his nose brushes against fabric, and before you can say _Oblivion sucks,_ his hand is at my throat and –

_Riiiiip._

He _rips_ one side of my top from neck to shoulder.

I almost choke on my own tongue.

Lifting a hand, he tugs the fabric away, before really, properly, burying himself in my neck. _Skin on skin._

He sighs, his chest swelling, and louder than before – _moans_.

_My_ chest heaves up and down – too quickly. _Oh my god_ is all I can think _, oh my god oh my god oh my god!_

Before he can do anything more, with all the strength in me, I lift my now free hands and _shove_ him for all I'm worth… which, unfortunately, doesn't appear to be very much, as I only create a tiny gap. But a gap is still a gap, and with it, I let air _whoosh_ into my lungs.

Quickly taking advantage of the narrow space, I slip-slide my body out from underneath his and scramble back on my bum.

Throughout this – and I know because I'm terrified of glancing away from him – he watches me with wide, bewildered eyes.

_Right_ , I think hysterically, _like I'm the one acting crazy._

My heart thrums as he remains in his crouch, and, rather than standing up and… _and_ … he instead ducks his head low and starts crawling towards me. _Again_.

Panicked, I start retreating once more, wanting to get to my feet but not wanting to waste time in the _getting to_ part. When my back hits something solid, I want to cry out at the unfairness of this stupid world, but instead find my hands backing up it, _quickly_. With something like relief burning in my stomach, I realise I'm _standing_.

I side-step the solid-hard and take one big step back. Then two. Then three.

Under obscenely long, dark lashes, he watches me.

I throw a quick glance over my shoulder, looking into the dense green. When I look back, I jump about ten-feet in the air because he's much closer than he was a second ago.

"Stop it!" I say, voice high and shrill as I tumble further away. I could leg it right now, but he'd already caught me once. He was obviously fast – faster than me, at least – and this was _his_ world, not mine.

So many factors against me… what were my options?

"Don't come any closer!"

Right. _Not very good ones._

My eyes swivel all around me before locking on his heated gaze. My foot catches on something and I _almost_ trip. Every press of his hand and turn of his knee brings him _almost_ to my feet. And I'm still hot and sweaty even if I'm not thirsty anymore, and I'm angry at being sent here and angry at the people back on Earth, and I'm absolutely terrified of the glistening-him in front of me.

I'm feeling too much and I hate hate hate _hate_ it.

"Please," I whisper, because I just want it all to _stop_.

And then…

…he does.

**OoOoOo**

**OoOoOoOo**

**OoOoOo**

Handprints away, he freezes.

I can hear the sound of his breathing he's that close, because the way he halted made me pause, too.

His head has fallen between his shoulders, and I can see the light-bright of his hair tumbling together with the gentle breeze I hadn't noticed before now. He's so still, so _quiet_. My mind's telling me, _go_ , but my feet remain rooted with, _stay_.

"Th-thank you," I stammer, and then feel silly for saying it.

Of course, he doesn't reply. My knowledge of Them doesn't extend to whether they have the ability to speak or not, but clearly They have the capacity for sounds. But maybe if he could understand me, _maybe…_

"I'm – I'm going to – " I break off when he looks up at me, his eyes so _different_. My breathing catches and skitters around my chest when he reaches a hand out and places it round my ankle, like he did before. Tightly, I grip the flap of my torn top to me, and carry on, pretending his skin isn't burning me. "I'm going to… go." I swallow. "Now." Then I lift my captured foot and _step back_. And he lets me.

"Bye," I whisper, inching away through the green. "Th-thanks for… for sharing your water with me, I – " I shake my head, close my eyes. "Thank you."

Then I turn around, and walk away.

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**A/N: *sad face*  
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	7. Chapter 7

**Cupid's Bow**

**Chapter 6**

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I falter when I hear them.

Sounds, pained and weighted and sore, vibrate through the softened floor and sink, unrelenting, into my skin.

I grip my top tightly as my breathing picks up, fingernails digging into my skin as I fight the urge to turn around. _To do… what?_ He understood. He _must_ have. I said I was going, and… he let me go. Simple. It's what I wanted… right?

_Right_ , I think firmly. _But… I didn't want to hurt anyone._

The thought, or just that _word_ really, startles me so much I almost tumble. Back home, I'd never had to worry about other people, not in the sense of anything personal, anyway. We were created in groups – or _batches_ – and we stayed that way until the day came where we'd be sent off to do our pre-assigned things for our pre-ready world. I had lived with the same people for as long as I could remember… but I'd never really _known_ any of them. And now suddenly I'm culpable of someone else's _pain_?

Shaking the thought away, I halt on the spot too abruptly, withholding a groan of my own as I scrunch my eyes shut. _Why is this so complicated?_ Maybe the truth of the matter is that it _isn't_ , not really. I was dropped here with the preconceived notion – judgement – of what I was going to find. I'd heard all the stories, just like everyone else, I knew of Their… _ways_. And I was steadfast in my belief that I would never take part in them – be like _Them_.

_That_ was still firm… but maybe there was more to this place than what I'd originally thought.

His pained moan cuts the air, and I wince.

More to _Them._

So with a resigned puff of breath, I swivel on my heel and start marching back in the _wrong_ direction.

**OoOoOo**

**OoOoOoOo**

**OoOoOo**

I hesitate.

Surprise mixed with something bitter churns in my stomach as I hover some feet away from him, taking in his new position on the soft. He's curled up like a tiny foetus in a test tube, body trembling, as a constant flux of pure _ache_ falls from his mouth in groans and whimpers.

I feel terrible… and confused.

_Did I do that?_

"Hey…" Almost soundless, because my throat feels so tight all of a sudden.

But he must hear me, because his trembling ceases so abruptly, it's like I've flicked a switch under his skin.

Slowly, so slowly, he lifts his head.

His eyes are shiny, wet, _sad_.

My breath leaves me in a great _gust_ , rattling my insides as it brushes past. "Sorry," I breathe, not even stuttering.

In reply, he starts to unfurl from his tight position. I hold my ground as he becomes taller again, keeping my breathing steady and even. _It's alright,_ I tell myself. _He's fine. You're fine_.

Once he's fully erect, he ducks his head like he did earlier, though he's still much, much bigger than me – even across the distance separating us now. He doesn't make a move to close it, though, which makes this… _this_ , easier, to say the least.

For a minute, I don't say a word, and he just breathes.

"Um…" I eventually mumble-start, fidgeting a little. I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the bizarreness of the situation and instead focus on what I need to do now. But it's sort of hard to do that, when your everything-opposite-and-more is standing in front you. "Um…"

All the while I'm dilly-dallying, he just stands there, glistening and still. Mostly, I appreciate his quiet. But a part of me is stewing in guilt – something I wouldn't even have _considered_ feeling towards one of Them, or _anyone_ , before – and it persists like a bad headache. _Did I break him?_ I think, then cringe at my own thoughts because –

He's not a _thing_.

The thought jolts me as much as the concept of _guilt_ and _pain_.

"Bella," I just _blurt_ out, no preamble.

Maybe it's the sudden change in my tone or the _tiny_ step I take forwards, but at any rate, his head snaps up.

Before I lose my nerve, I press a palm to my heart and repeat, "Bella."

I watch his odd eyes flicker down to my hand, then up to my mouth before going back to my hand again. The green-gold lights up with, I think, _recognition_.

His arm lifts, pressing sparkle-studded fingers to his shining-bright chest. "Edward."

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**A/N: :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Cupid's Bow**

**Chapter 7**

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The conveniently named  _Hush_ was located in one of the lower-most sections of town. I knew this because for a while, I was a Pidgeon. Most of our information intake and outtake was transmitted through various mediums of technology, but in the poorer (or in this case,  _clandestine_ ) areas, plain old fashioned paper was used to submit messages and the like. Thus, my role (not really  _job_  because I didn't get paid for it) as Pidgeon.

In that short period of time, I became privy to really more than I would have liked –  _Hush_  was pretty much the go-to place for all and everything about Cupid's Bow. Scattered whispers had made me recoil in horror, while drawings had sent unwelcome shivers up and down my spine. But in all that, I'd never once heard someone mention them  _speaking_.

But, I suppose, I hadn't much heard or seen anything besides…

I blink at him, astonished.

I had pondered it earlier, but I'm not sure I really believed…

"Edward," he says again, tapping his chest. His voice is soft and deep, and what's more,  _clear_  – like he's used to speaking. Yet, up until that point, I'd only heard him make sounds.

_It's a different world,_  I think.  _Different ways._

I'd just never thought about it – besides the obvious – because I never thought I'd be here.

But if I'm to make it home…

…then I'm going to need to.

Giving my head a quick shake, I push steel into my spine as I ready myself for what I'm about to ask.

"Edward." I say his name softly, because that's just the way it comes out. In between my stolen glances at his face, I watch his eyes widen. "Could you – " I break off, swallow, wonder if I'm really about to ask one of Them for –

"I need your help," I blurt.

_I guess so._

I start to fidget like mad after I've said it; one hand repeatedly flexing and releasing on my torn top, while the other tugs at the damp-curled edges of my hair. My gaze is on the ground now, my heart beating like crazy in my ears, because it's out there now and I can't – can't take it back.

When I glance back up, his head is cocked to the side, his eyebrows furrowed.

_Confused_ , I think.

"Um… I'm looking for a – a Thing… but I don't really… I don't really know where I'm going." The truth feels bitter going down, but I forge on. "Do you know where I could find it – the Thing?"

His eyes brighten, like they did before when I said my name, and he said his. Relief runs down my throat and softens my bones as I recognise his manner as one – I hope – of  _understanding_.

_He knows where to find it._

"Thing," he repeats, watching me closely as he starts towards me again.

I hold my ground, even though the sight of him approaching – just the  _sight_  of him, actually – is still really, really unsettling. I start to tremble when he's only about a foot away, and he drops his head again.

_Why_? I think, only briefly though, because he's suddenly holding his arms out in front of him.

I start at him, dumbfounded.

Now  _I'm_  the confused one.

After a minute of, well,  _nothing_ , he peeks up at me from beneath his lashes.

Meeting my confused glance with one of his own, he nods his head behind me, uttering a quiet, "Far." Then, taking an insistent step forwards, and dropping his eyes to his arms before looking back into mine, "Carry."

My mouth drops.

Heart racing, and taking a quick step backwards like he'll pick me up anyway if I move too slowly,  _I_  insist, "I can walk."

He seems to hesitate for a moment, inhaling deeply before letting his breath shudder out. Eventually, he lets his arms fall. He nods his head.

"So." I let my eyes turn away, swivelling my body to the side as I glance into all that green. It's easier to pretend to be normal when I can't see him. "This way?"

He hums, low and throaty, before I feel the heat of his skin scorching me. I keep my gaze fixedly ahead, trembling through my steel-enforced spine. I feel his hand on my shoulder, causing my fingers to tighten around the ripped neck of my top. But… he moves it in the opposite direction – slip-sliding it down my suddenly  _small_  feeling arm before encircling my wrist, and then just…

Just…  _holding my hand_.

I jolt, my eyes huge, my palm damp and clammy but not  _cold_.

Fear keeps my glance from darting down.

A sound rumbles in his chest, almost a sigh. Slowly, he comes to stand beside me, his gaze warming my not-going-to-look face. He doesn't say anything… but after a minute he starts walking, and I do, too.

A while later – minutes,  _hours_? – my fear fades a little, so I let myself look down – just for a minute, though, at –

At our connected hands.

**OoOoOo**

**OoOoOoOo**

**OoOoOo**

_Heat rises_ , they said,  _heat always rises._  It was like a minor third-party reason (or  _excuse_ ) for why we lived in sky-high block buildings. I never questioned it, never had cause or reason to. When I was a Pidgeon for the lower-most parts of the city, I wrapped up in as many layers as I could without becoming debilitated, and I was  _still_  cold. And it wasn't like they were even  _properly_ on the ground, not like here.

So now, on the  _ground_ , as I swelter under the bright white heat, I'm not so much as  _questioning_  that teaching as deeming it downright  _fallacy_  altogether.

_Different worlds_ , my mind quibbles back, but I push it away.

I have to let go of Edward's hand some way in, and when he startles, stops, and looks at me with  _hurt_  plainly etched onto his face, I say, weakly, "Hot."

When he shows no sign of understanding, I life my arm and swipe the sweat from across my forehead away. I know my face is probably flushed ten-shades of red by now, so I wipe the wet away from my cheeks, too.

I say, again, "Hot." My legs wobble a bit – heat this intense something I'm not accustomed to. "Too hot." And then I just slink to the softened floor, dropping my head between my knees because I feel headache-y all of a sudden.

He makes a little distressed noise in the back of his throat as I fall, and even though I can't see him, I know he's fallen with me.

Fingers on my boot-covered feet. "Bel-la?"

I close my eyes. "I just… I need a minute."

He whines lowly, and before I can say or think anything else, I'm in the  _air_.

My breath leaves me in a yelp-gasp as I automatically clutch onto him for support. One of his arms is under my knees, while the other goes around my back, holding me carefully to his chest.

"No walk," he explains, meeting my widened eyes.

I gulp.

"Put me down," I whisper, body shaking at the realisation of being… being  _held_.

His arms tighten around me. I feel each flex and tense of his… his  _muscles_. "No walk," he insists, green-gold searching,  _pleading_.

It ensnares me for a moment, his sense of being earnest. In  _Hush_ , I'd seen enough, um _, glazed-eyed_  stares, to know what physical insincerity looked like: the insatiable wanting of  _more_ , never satisfied in its take-and-no-give policy.

But I search and search and  _search_  his eyes… and I don't see it. That  _look_.

Unfortunately, that doesn't completely stop the panic, as he is, you know, still very much…

"I can walk." I repeat my words from earlier as I start squirming in his arms, which is made very difficult by the heat and the not-wanting-to-touch. I tear my gaze from his as I shiver and shake and writhe about, trying to pull myself away.

But he doesn't budge.

Not. One. Inch.

I grow flustered, my face heating for a different reason. "Edward!" Exasperated, hot,  _tired_.

"Bel-la…" Hushed, quiet,  _gentle_.

In a move I don't see coming because I'm studiously avoiding his gaze, he dips his head into my neck.

I freeze.

Gently, his nose pushes aside the torn fabric I'd forgotten about in my struggle to be put down, and glides so feather-soft and slow along my neck. He breathes in deeply, holds it in his chest for a minute, before letting it out.  _Slowly_.

My body shudders, vibrating with the after-feeling of his groan, his touch.

"Shhh…" he hushes quietly, his breath hot on my lips, the tip of his nose light and caressing against mine. "Find – find water," he murmurs, words a bit stilted, but tone clear. "For – for Bel-la."

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	9. Chapter 9

**Cupid's Bow**

**Chapter 8**

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"Off."

I startle at the feeling of fingers pulling on the ripped corner of my top.

My reflected gaze darts to the reflected Edward in the water, kneeling beside me and lightly tugging on the ruined material. Abruptly, I yank myself away from him, fear crawling into my insides at his word, his touch.

He stares at me across the newly created space, confused, his hand hovering in mid-air.

"W-what are you d-doing?" I grip my top to me tightly, suddenly doubting what I saw, or didn't see, in his eyes earlier.

His head cocks to the side in reply, his gaze running over my clothes. "Hot." His glance swerves back to mine before he places his hovering-hand over his glittering chest. Then, shrugging, "Off."

I gawk at him…

…then start shaking my head pretty bloody quickly.

"No," I squeak, shifting away slightly. "No, thank you."

So he won't pick me up or anything again, I quickly scoop my hands into the water and splash it onto my face. A shudder of pure _relief_ trembles down my spine at how good it feels. It's icy-cool, and I do it again and again, letting the water run down my hair, soaking my scalp in delicious little rivulets of sensation.

Out of the corner of my eye, Edward smiles widely.

I peer at him hesitantly. "It's… I feel better now."

Without a word, he dunks his hand into the water and pulls it back out, dripping.

Wide-eyed, I watch the droplets cling to the tiny diamonds embedded into his skin, and, for a second, recall the moment I first saw him in the water, and feel my cooled-down cheeks flush slightly.

His wet hand touches my bare neck. His eyes catch mine. "Bet… better?"

I swallow thickly, breathe in, breathe out – feel his hand follow the movement. "Um…"

He dips his other hand, lifts it, and places it on his own neck. Inching a little closer, a fixed look steals across his features as his eyes drift closed for a minute. My heart whirrs and –

"Fast," he breathes, voice awed, peering at me. He flexes his hand on his own neck slightly before he smiles, soft and gentle. "S…same."

**OoOoOo**

**OoOoOoOo**

**OoOoOo**

Apparently, on Cupid's Bow, the atmosphere is so accommodating and, well, just flat-out _friendly_ , towards human beings, that here, houses are pretty much obsolete. It was one of the things that made it 'the place to be!' – the titillating idea that you could sleep out under the stars, every single night of the year, without worrying about infection or disease or cold.

Personally, I found that idea to be a bit… _barbaric_.

So when the sky starts to darken, apprehension starts to wring at my insides. We'd been walking since we'd cooled off by the little water pool, passing no buildings, no Things, no… _nothing_ , really. All I saw, over and over, was colour. But, I suppose, one good thing about seeing nothing was it meant that I hadn't seen any more of Them, either.

Maybe I can manage with _one_ , but there's no way I could deal with being outnumbered.

He pauses.

Tilting my head up in the fading light, I ask, my voice tight, "Why are we stopping?" I guess it was naïve of me to think we'd get there – wherever _there_ is – before nightfall, but hope is inherently naïve, I suppose.

His eyes scan the green for a minute. Seemingly satisfied with whatever it is he does, or doesn't, see, he drops his head, his green-gold merging together as he gazes at me. "Sleep," is all he says, taking one more step forward before… sinking to the ground.

Nerves tighten in the pit of my stomach as my eyes dart all around. I am _really_ uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping outside. It's too… _open_. Plus, the quicker I find the Thing, the quicker I can go home. He must know this place like the back of his hand by now, so…

"No… sleep," I say, mimicking his pattern from earlier.

Maybe he can sense my apprehension or whatever, because a look of understanding pools in his splashed-out eyes. Reaching up, he gives my fingers a little tug. "Bel-la sleep. Bel-la… safe."

My eyes widen as I quickly pull my hand away, winding my arm around my ribs. "That's not…" But it _is_.

"Safe," he insists, patting the ground next to him. "Sleep."

I look at the green, the ground, and then him hesitantly. I don't think I'm going to win this one, and I _am_ a bit tired, but…

"Tomorrow?" I ask, then clarify, "We'll find the Thing tomorrow?"

After a minute, he nods. "Tuh… tomorrow."

So sighing, I let myself sink to the ground, clutching my knees tight to my chest. I don't look at him even though I can feel his gaze on me, instead opting to stare out into the dark. I won't let myself fall asleep, because despite what he might say, I still feel uneasy. I haven't _stopped_ feeling uneasy today.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch his position change, until he's lying flat on the ground, his body tilted to face me. He scoots a little closer – because I left a considerable bit of space between us – and I pretend I don't see.

Slowly, he reaches out and lays his hand on mine, before winding his fingers around my tightly interlocked ones. My quick heart dries up all the water in my mouth, but I let them loosen and fall, let him slide his fingers between mine… and I pretend that he's the only one holding on.

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	10. Chapter 10

**Cupid's Bow**

**Chapter 9**

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When people left our world for Cupid's Bow, or any other really, I liked to imagine that they were seeking all sorts of things; adventure, intrigue, _mystery_. And for a while, before I was old enough to be in (and understand) 'the know,' I thought they really _were_. When I was younger, I had even hoped that I would be among them – that my life plan would let me jump off the edge one day, and into other worlds.

But as I grew older, I grew more aware. By that point, I was content with my life where I was. I didn't want to travel or explore or experience, I just wanted to… _be_.

And for a little while, that's exactly what I did.

So if someone were to tell me, in those moments both _after_ the rosy-hue had been wiped away, but _before_ I'd been given the full realisations of someone else's mistake, that I'd be sleeping outside with a naked one of Them, well… I might just call them crazy and push them over the edge myself.

Like I said, _hope_ is naïve like that.

**OoOoOo**

**OoOoOoOo**

**OoOoOo**

_Warmth_ is what wakes me.

Still unused to being so, well, _warm_ , it's the excess of it that jolts me from the darkness. I blink my eyes open slowly, immediately cringing from the onslaught of bright white _light_ that burns into my retinas. I slam my eyes shut so quickly that the ache zigzags through my head.

Wincing, I lift an arm and throw it across my closed gaze, finding relief at being hidden from the glare burning the back of my lids. It takes me a minute to process the _where_ and _why_ , and when I do, everything in me deflates.

_So… not a dream then._

"Bel-la awake?"

And there's the _who_.

I take my arm away from my face slowly, grimacing at the feel of the heat. But it only lasts a minute… as the worst of the burning suddenly just _fades_.

Confused, I blink my eyes open again.

I gasp lightly as the sight of… of _Edward_ immediately floods my vision. He's leaning over me, _close_ , and glistening in the morning light, throwing off sparks in every direction. I gape at his face – the only part of him I can bring myself to look at, and it's still too much – and know that I'll never get used to it – to _him_.

_You don't need to_ , my mind reminds me. _You'll be able to go home soon._

He smiles at me in the shade.

I swallow. _Hard_.

"Bel-la awake," he says-states this time, his tone pleased. "Bel-la… Bel-la sleep."

My fingers grasp the soft underneath me. "B-Bella _slept_ ," I babble-correct, just looking for a distraction really, but he –

"Slept," he mutters, his gaze darting to my mouth. "No… no sleep… _slept_."

Surprise jolts my insides, making me glance into his eyes without nerves for once. I'm still too full of pre-conceived notions, and he's turning in directions too inconsistent with all the whispers back on Earth.

_He's not a thing_ , I think to myself again.

"Thing," I blurt suddenly, making his eyes dart away from my mouth. He looks at me curiously. I clear my throat, pulling myself _out of my head_ because I really just need to focus on one thing. _The_ Thing. "Are we… we're going to find the Thing today?"

He shifts above me, his tawny hair falling across his forehead and dripping down towards me. "Thing first…" he says slowly, test-tasting words. "Tuh…take Thing… h-home."

My eyes widen. "You have a – a _home_?"

His lips quirk to the side as he leans down, his drippy hair brushing across _my_ forehead. I close my eyes, heart fast, as he dips his head into his favourite place – _my neck._

He breathes in… holds it… then lets it go.

"Bel-la come," he whispers, and I shiver. "Edward's home."

**OoOoOo**

**OoOoOoOo**

**OoOoOo**

I try not to let my mind wander as we start through the green again, but it proves nigh on impossible.

The truth of the matter isn't as easy as I want it to be. Clearly, the people back on Earth had some things right – the planet being one that can't really be disputed, and certain parts of the people here, too; the… the _nudity_ , the _size_ , the _touching_.

But there's also _so much_ that isn't accounted for, like the speaking, the understanding, the whole bloody rationality of them! I don't even know at this point whether the last reason was not-covered by them or just invented by me. When I heard and saw things about Them, I'd just seen how _different_ they were from us. I'd deemed them barbaric and uncivilised and uncultivated because they did things that I'd never seen or heard anyone doing before. And what was I using for the basis of my opinion? The gossip of _other_ people.

Shame hits me like a ton of bricks then, momentarily breaking my stride. I stare frozen at his back for a minute, feeling the full weight of my years of disgust fall back on me.

Up ahead, I watch him glance to the side, where I used to be, and abruptly halt. A panicked noise comes from his throat when he sees the empty space, and it only lessens slightly when he spins around, and spots me.

He takes a hesitant step forward, stops, and looks at me warily, maybe remembering the last time I fled.

My name is a trembling, "Bel-la?"

I shake a little, croak out a dry, "Sorry."

He takes another step forward, face tight. "Bel-la hurt?"

A hysterical laugh bubbles in the back of my throat at his question, but I beat it down. "No," I breathe, and my gaze runs a little rosy as I stare at him, feeling fresh and new and _guilty_. "I… I'm sorry."

His head twitches to the side, and his hand lifts, tumbling through his hair. He takes a deep breath… closes his eyes… slowly opens them again. In his gaze, I see fear. "Bel-la… _leave_?"

My hands form fists at my sides, and for the first time, I realise I'm not holding my ripped top together. I wonder when I stopped clutching it. Swallowing thickly, I take two steps forwards, not quite meeting him in the middle, but almost.

I tell him,

"Bella stay."

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	11. Chapter 11

**Cupid's Bow**

**Chapter 10**

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Back on Earth, I'd never really experienced  _too much_  of anything. Everything was already pre-set for us – our body temperature, our food intake, our time spent asleep, and so on. That's not to say that  _no one_  ever surpassed the limits of what was for our own good. Some people went off the beaten track for a bit, but most of the time they came back. I don't really know what happened to the rest – they were probably the ones that filled  _Hush_.

So I have never been too full, too awake or too tired. I had never felt  _thirst_. I had never  _sweated_.

It didn't even take me a  _day_  away from monitoring to realise them. And what an uncomfortable realisation it was.

As I trudge along with Edward, under day-burn that seems to last  _forever_ , it's impossible to fight the persistent cringe at the feeling of my clothes sticking to my skin. You would think, or I would anyway, that the heat would dry me – that's the way it works, right? – but with each step, I only grow wetter.

Sticky and clammy and uncomfortable but I  _will not stop_ _ **.**_

To distract myself, I mentally but not actually glance to the side of me. I let myself ruminate on one of the aspects of Edward – maybe Them in general – that is curious but not horror-shocking.

His speech.

I think about his clear tone on some words, and then his stiltedness on others – how much he might understand, and what he doesn't, but also his capacity to learn, and so quickly, too.

" _No… no sleep…_ slept _."_

Without permission, I realise my mouth has parted to… to  _ask_.

I quickly snap it closed again.

To the side of me, Edward turns. Lifting a hand, he pulls back some green that looks thick and heavy, and, after a quick second of looking at his unveiling, dips his head to catch my glance.

He smile-sparkles, nodding inwards.

I hesitantly turn my gaze away from his and look to where he's gesturing. "The Thing's in there?"

His head shakes. "No Thing," he replies, voice coloured sure. "Sh…shade… water…" His gaze runs down me, landing on my feet with a frown. "Rest."

I peek into the opening once again, wondering if I should argue and persist, but…

I sigh, not even meaning it, and accept Edward's offering.

**OoOoOo**

**OoOoOoOo**

**OoOoOo**

I don't know if this water is different to the water on Earth, or if it's just the fact that my throat keeps running dry, but in any case, it's never tasted so good.

Vaguely my mind hums out a question of  _too much_ … and I start to worry about the after effects of drinking so much so I –

I stop.

Eyeing the cool water distrustfully, I slowly lower it back into the little pool and scoot away a little bit. I'm tempted to let it rain icy-relief onto my head, but realise it will probably just mix with the sticky-heat coating me and make me even more uncomfortable when we start walking again.

So I just stare at it sparkling, sullen.

I jolt when a  _splash_  sounds from the other end, and peer up just in time to see Edward rise out of the water, dripping and shining, just like he did yesterday.

 _Yesterday_. The thought seems so strange – the duration seems longer.

I quickly duck my head when my eyes won't move away, and a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach starts to bloom.

_Too much bloody water!_

I hear the gentle  _swish_  of the pool as he moves through it, but I just stare at my shoe, fiddle with the sole like it's really very interesting.

Something pink and ripe and round appears in front of my dipped-down gaze.

"Bel-la?"

I stare at the offering, my eyes wide. "What's that?"

"F-food," he says-stammers, pushing his hand a little closer. "Eat?"

I hadn't even noticed I was hungry up until that point. But even at the feeling of empty in my stomach, I don't make a move to take it. It's so… well just…  _so_. Like with everything else here: I've never seen anything like it before… and certainly not anything that I'd put in my mouth.

"Um," I say hesitantly, tugging on my sole. "I don't think – "

"Food safe," he says quietly, his tone…  _hurt_?

Then I  _do_  glance up, and his expression matches his voice.

"Oh no." I quickly try to fix my mistake, my hands flapping about. "That's not what I – I didn't mean to suggest that – "

But his head dips at my rambling, and his shoulders slump. Slowly, he starts to pull his hand back.

_Oh, it can't be that bad!_

So thinking not at all, I quickly reach out and pluck the round-pink from his palm.

I take a bite.

And it's… well.

I thought the  _water_  tasted good.

A noise leaves my lips before I can stop it, and his head snaps up. I don't even know  _why_  I do it, it just sort of… spills out.

His eyes shimmer-spark, heightened by the dazzling sheen of his skin, and then he's gone and back so quickly, the only evidence I can see of his moving sits in his palm – because there's suddenly  _more_  of the pink-round-ripe.

I eat until I feel  _full_.

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	12. Chapter 12

**Cupid's Bow**

**Chapter 11**

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Before we leave, Edward disappears back through the green for a minute, and I take my chance.

Carefully, I ease my boots off my feet, wincing a little when they stick. The unrelenting material seems to have _welded_ itself to my skin – I guess it's not really a fan of _heat_.

Well, that makes two of us.

"Oh my god," I whisper-sigh, just in _relief_.

I lay my boots to the side and let my toes sink into the soft below, jolting slightly at how _nice_ it feels. I wore shoes pretty much constantly back on Earth – only removing them to sleep. But why would I? Our ground was hard and stony, so I'd never felt the need to wander around bare-footed.

I close my eyes and loosen my muscles, just for a tiny, _tiny_ , second.

"Bel-la hurt."

My eyes fly open as a gasp tears its way past my lips, my hand slamming across my heart _hard_ as I stare at the now very _present_ Edward.

"Please make more noise in the future," I whisper, my heart choking my tongue.

Oblivious, all he does is sink down in front of me, leaving me to stare at the top of his bent-down head. His weirdly colourful hair captures the light and soaks the tips, making me blink too quickly.

I jolt when I feel his fingers slide around my ankle, my now _bare_ ankle, and automatically try to pull it back.

But he persists, pulling my foot closer.

"Bel-la hurt," he says again, wincing at the redness on my skin. "Ouch."

"It's fine," I squeak out, slipping my bum back so I can tug my leg away.

Ignoring my efforts (consciously or not, I'm not sure) he suddenly sinks into the water. Unfortunately, he takes my foot with him.

"Hey!" I yelp, a second before my toes touch the surface. " _What_ are you – "

Then my foot is swallowed by the pool and…

…my words tumble themselves out into a gasp.

" _Oh_ ," I breathe.

The icy-relief is so _immediate_ , so instantly _soothing_ , that it makes my whole body shudder-shake. I… I don't know how to describe what it feels like, just that it feels so _good_ … so much –

"Better?"

I startle, my gaze jumping to Edward's.

He's watching me… _hopefully_?

"Um, y-yes," I stammer, feeling the pads of his fingers trail slowly down the arch of my underwater foot. I _will_ the panic away, but that hardly helps – I can feel the rush of my heart pounding underneath every little bit of me.

He smiles in reply; light-tipped dark lashes brushing against his cheekbones, lips uplifted and soft and red.

I swallow. "Thank you."

His eyes crinkle, and I'm too… _too_ , to notice his arm extending, his hand reaching out to grasp my other ankle. I don't pull or kick or tug when his fingers slip around my skin, but let him sink it into the water with my other foot, and him.

My arms start to shake at the intense relief, and that, coupled with the confusing but really very pleasant feeling of his fingers drawing out the pain, makes them just flat out collapse. I slip onto my elbows and it doesn't even hurt.

Boneless, I watch him watch me.

"That feels nice." Tongue loose and honest with feeling. I don't even stutter.

His teeth press into the fresh, full redness of his bottom lip as his eyes sink into mine. Below the surface of the water, his thumbs press firmly into the arches of my feet, mimicking the force of his stare, and my elbows wobble. My breath quickens and my body is soft toffee, _barely_ solidified, when he slowly lifts my right foot out of the cool… and then presses those fresh, fruit-ripened lips against _me_.

Sensitised and reeling, my mouth opens and for the first time ever in my twenty years I –

I _moan_.

Long and drawn out and taking all the air out of my lungs.

In reply, his eyes simultaneously intensify and fall. Through my own droopy lids, I watch him come closer. Blood pools under my skin when he slowly lowers my foot back into the water, only to slide his hands up my legs until he's grasping my knees.

_Oh my god._

With a low rumble from somewhere deep in his chest, he grips my knees tight before pulling me forward, until my butt is on the very edge of the soft, only _just_ out of the water.

My eyes widen, fear curling in my belly, but I remain curiously stiff as he… as he _parts_ my legs, taking a step forward until he's so _close_ , encased tightly between my thighs, his palms on the soft either side of my waist as he hovers over me.

Trembling, my mouth opens… but nothing comes out.

His green-gold darkens as he looms above me, mere inches away. And it's captivating, his gaze, because just like when he looked at me before, with that unprecedented _sincerity_ , now his eyes hold something equally unheard of.

So unheard of in fact that _I can't actually name it._

The stories say that years ago, in The Days That Never Were (only _stories_ because to confirm it would be to make it The Days That Were – and they (meaning The Institution) were inclined to remain rather aloof about the whole thing), everyone, not just those who went off the rail, wandered around unmonitored, unassigned and unholy. _Holy_ was synonymous with _order_ now – the association with something abstract having become obsolete long ago. Yet curiously, the term remained within our lexis (along with others like _god_ and _religion_ ). Their past conceptualisations always drifted just beyond my reach, but the fact they remained so firmly embedded had always confounded me. I wondered just how powerful they must have been – before. If they were so unrestrained, what if they'd had just _too much_ _…_ what if it had all turned out wrong?

Suffice to say, I didn't like to think about that. Especially considering these words were still going strong.

Anyway, the point of the matter is that as a result of the insatiability of The Past People, the Earth became uninhabitable. The air burnt, people destructed on whims, and eventually, everything just fell to pieces. According to myth, or reality, depending on the teller, there was a trial to determine the Virtuous from the Ills. From the Virtuous lot, a male and a female from every corner of the world were chosen and then deployed to _Earth 2_ (just _Earth_ following the belief of The Days That Never Were). The Ills, well… they were left behind.

But the Virtuous brought their stories, their precious, shocking words with them. Because despite not being Ills, they had lived in that world, and they had seen and heard it all; all of that evil, all of that _ill_.

What happened? As far as I had heard – The Institution had locked everything away. Or thrown it away. Or hidden it. It was the same basic tale repeated over and over, but there were always differences – ones that'd probably make even the most believing sceptical.

So right now, looking up at Edward, _I can't name his gaze_ – because I've never seen it before.

Because maybe, if the stories are to be believed… it's something _ill_.

Panic turns me inside out. It isn't just wayward gossip making me uneasy now, but the actual realisation that he's doing something different – not just _touch_ , which is something known, if disapproved of – but his undefinable gaze that could be _insatiability_.

My insides flood with blood, yanking my hands up and push push _pushing_. It barely moves him any, but he must understand my intent because he lifts a hand and secures my wrists against his chest, stopping the motion. Dropping down slightly, his eyes loom closer to mine, colours splashing – _not making any sense._

"Get off of me," I breathe harshly, my heart thundering, my eyes threatening to water. My mind is replaying moments in _Hush_ on a loop, filling my ears with sound and stories of greed, of wanting, of _too much_ and destruction.

_Oh god_ , I think, for the hundredth time in two days – even though I don't really know what it means.

"Get off!" And tears _do_ spill over this time, leaking down out of the corners of my eyes and landing in the soft below.

He blinks down at me – gaze leaving mine as he follows their watery path. Relief fills me momentarily as his incongruous eyes release mine, but his glance is back before I can blink. And my vision is too blurry to see the change.

He whines lowly, his hand releasing my wrists to rest on the other side of me again. _My_ hands curl in on themselves as I try to push against his chest once more – too intermittent with trembles to hold their own.

His body presses against mine, but I don't feel any of his weight. My chest heaves up and down with too-hurried breaths that _hurt_ when I feel his nose touch my neck. I wait for him to inhale, _will_ the wobble out of my limbs that stems from the shaking in my mind. But none of these things happen.

Instead he –

He turns his head, and –

No hesitation, presses his mouth against my temple; soaking up tear-tracks with his lips.

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